


Fox-glove

by magicflowr (orphan_account)



Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: (apart from ayaka), AU where nobody dies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Flower Language, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, POV Multiple, Useless Lesbians, Yuukei Quartet - Freeform, florography, they get less useless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13776198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/magicflowr
Summary: They'd settled into a rhythm, really. Wednesdays and Fridays in the school library. Somewhere in the midst of the studying and chocolate-making, unbeknownst to the other, Ayano and Takane develop a deep adoration for each other. Ayano, unable to admit it upfront goes for a cryptic cute confession, but the thorn of a rose reveals her true feelings.





	1. Mutual Adoration

The study session had entered the final phase: and _man_ , it was boring. They’d got past the petty seating squabbles (ending on the usual: Ayano next to Shintarou, opposite Haruka and Takane), the complaint session (fuelled primarily by Shintarou’s run-in with Kenjirou), and the inevitable, mournful opening of the textbooks.

Now they had settled quietly into the silence of students, nothing could be heard but scratching of pencils and tinny music coming from Ayano’s headphones.

_It isn’t unpleasant, I guess._

Routine like this is good for Takane. She needs this like she needs 12 hours of sleep to feel awake, like she needs headphones for her morning walk. Didn’t have much of a routine before Ayano joined their little group, but it’d been like this in the few months since. Wednesday and Friday afternoons in the library, Thursday if anybody had a test.

Shintarou is also there, today at least. Pesky bastard couldn’t commit _too_ much.

With an exaggerated sigh, Takane closes the (basically) finished paper and stretches her arms and fingers. Something’s bothering her, but something usually is. This time it’s Haruka sat next to her, tapping his foot against the floor, over and over. _Tap tap tap tap tap_. Breathing in, then out, she resists the urge to kick him into stopping. That’s not something she does anymore. _As long as it helps him,_ Takane thinks.

_Tap tap tap tap tap._

She focuses her attention on Ayano.

Sweet Ayano. The curls of her hair bounce ever so in time with a subdued rock of her body.

_So much prettier than my pigtails. I wonder what it feels like._

Her eyes trace down the curves of Ayano’s face. _I wonder what she’s thinking._ Takane thinks of the human life resting the pretty head of hers- she thinks she wants to know it better than anybody in the world.

God, she even smiles while she’s working.

Something about had never bothered her as much as Haruka’s endless cheer.

Her mouth dances around lyrics that Takane is frustratingly unfamiliar with. She wishes she knew. She could slip on her own headphones, load the same song into her iPod, and ever-so-casually leave the device face-up on the desk. _Wow!_ Ayano would say, eyes sparkling. _I like this song too!_ _You’re so interesting! We have so much in common! I, Ayano Tateyama, with my beautiful brown eyes and my cute round cheeks, absolutely adore you! Would you like to-_

Takane visibly winces - heat rushes to her face and her eyes desperately search for somewhere to settle, somewhere that isn’t Ayano’s lips. _God, these thoughts are so annoying!_ But, like a straight woman in a gay bar, these thoughts refuse to accept that they’re unwanted. They act as a separate unit, with no self-awareness - weaving intricate fantasies and putting words in a mouth that admittedly, she does want to kiss.

A cheerful voice interrupts her spiral.

“Wah! What! Hi, yes?”, her head swinging towards the source.

It’s Haruka. Bless that idiot. He’d pulled her mind out of rabbit holes before, unknowingly. For a moment, she wondered if the boy was secretly brilliant, cunningly kind, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he’d helped her so many times. Probably not.

“Jeez, what do you want?” she scowls, in desperate contrast to her thoughts that she figures (hopes?) will throw him off the scent.

“Ah, nothing! Wait, no, something! We’re thinking about heading home now!”

She swings her head back to Ayano, who’s busy removing her headphones.

“That alright with you? I can stay and help more, if you like?”

Takane watches Ayano’s lips again, and as she watches them slowly part she finds herself thinking _please, please say yes._

“Nah, that’ll be fine, she can copy the rest from me.”

Takane looks up at the source, apparently in some rush to be leaving - his red jacket glaring more obnoxiously than usual.

Oh. Shintarou’s here. She knew that, of course, but she’d been blissfully unaware for the last hour or so.

Noticing the way Ayano’s head bows, noticing the flicker of… something sad, she asks again.

“Ayano?” she asks, feeling like the question she’s asking has deviated from the original meaning, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

The girls expression changes in a flash, as if she caught herself feeling something she wasn’t supposed to feel.

“Actually, I- “

“Look, I already said, she can copy off me.”

_She._ Not even ‘you’. He didn’t even turn his head to look at her, acting like Ayano isn’t worth addressing directly. Takane pushes herself up on the desk, Haruka poises to hold her back.

“Hold the fuck up-“

“Don’t, Takane, it’s fine. It isn’t worth it.”

Ayano interrupts her with a soft voice and a gentle smile. _But you are worth it,_ Takane tries desperately to convey, looking as directly as she can into Ayano’s eyes.

_Why won’t you let me defend you?_

Taking a deep breath, she gives in to Ayano’s voice inside her head.

_It’s okay. Don’t lose your temper over someone like him._

The words she’s heard her speak a thousand times manage to calm her down. She _is_ worth it, but she’s also (probably) right. _Shintarou_ isn’t worth it. Shooting a glare ever-distant, uncaring face, Takane pulls her satchel from underneath the desk.

The atmosphere returns to normal. Takane leaves with Haruka. Ayano leaves with Shintarou.

The usual.

The brief spat with Takane affected her far more than it did Shintarou.

There’s nothing new to note about his behaviour. Nothing new about hers either, feeling the weight of his actions for him. Even though he walks to school with her, tutors her siblings, often eats meals at her house, and is now walking home with her, there’s never anything but distance behind his eyes.

_I’m not the one to close that distance_.

But Ayano was never very good at reading people’s emotions.

Maybe he hates her. Always a possibility. It’s usually best to catch herself in the middle of these types of thoughts before the spiralling starts, although it seems… correct. After all, she’d seen what he looked like engaged - it wasn’t anything like he acted around her. She’d seen his genuine happiness quite a few times since Haruka joined the pair. Before that, she’d been able to rationalise his actions with a quick ‘ah, he’s like that around everyone.’

Harder to do now.

Maybe he thinks she’s hoping for a relationship and he’s just making sure she didn’t get the wrong idea. She doesn’t want that from him, not anymore. She doesn’t want that from _any_ boy, that’s something she’d come to terms with some time ago.

Maybe there’s just a sadness in him that she wasn’t given permission to access.

Familiar, huh.

_Yeah. I’m hardly one to talk._ People used to try to make her open up all the time; her father, her teachers, the counsellor the school brought in after her mother died. Even Takane. Whenever this happened, she’d smiles as wide as she could, hit them with something as cheery as rainbows. The simple fact that they’d noticed her pain makes her heart sink, she can’t even do _that_ right.

All she wants to do is make people happy. But lying is… like trying to halt a flood with a plank of wood. She’s only putting her friends in more danger when the tide that is her rotten, true feelings burst through.

_It hasn’t happened yet, but something is gonna break._

Goodness. Maybe Shintarou keeps silent on their walks to help her get in touch with her feelings. It’s true, there’s not much to do on these lazy walks home, not on days like this. The sky is fading out, a roaring amber glow taking the place of the bright summer sky.

_Things aren’t all bad. It’s been so much better since we met those two!_

Haruka is just like her, she thinks. Well, maybe not quite. It’s like he knows exactly how to lighten the mood without even trying at all! Ayano could learn a thing or two, she’s so grateful he’s agreed to help her.

_Takane is… like Shintarou. As much as I do adore her. Shintarou in a sweeter casing. Although she cares for me so much more…_

Ayano remembered the chocolates they’d made for study one day. She’s still able to recall every second, she had so much fun! The genuine sound of surprise as Takane pulled out the first batch, exclaiming ‘ _I didn’t know it was even possible to burn chocolate!’._ Her mouth twisted in a perfect ‘o’ of disbelief.

She’d expected anger from someone so like Shintarou - but the girl squealed with a genuine confusion and dismay that forced a giggle out of Ayano every time she thought of it.

Occasionally, breathlessly, she remembers Takane standing behind her and reaching up to grab the second batch of raw chocolate. The closeness of a girl, perhaps _any girl,_ had made something swell in her chest, it had made her dizzy.

Checking her surroundings, checking that Shintarou remained oblivious, she closes her eyes and feels the weight of Takane’s body pressed against her own.

_Is that something shameful, that the simple touch makes me so happy?_

There’s more.

She’d noticed the way her cheeks flushed red, the way her voice got sweeter and her back got straighter whenever Takane joined them to study. Recently, she was only looking to Takane for help with schoolwork, choosing her less… academic intellect over Shintarou’s perfect test scores. Besides, cute grumpy girls beat grumpy boys any day of the week.

Embarrassing as it is, the way Takane had risen out of her seat to defend her over something as trivial as homework was making her unendingly happy.

There’s a warmth in Takane, something in the way she spoke so passionately that made her heart flutter. A passion that had ignited a warmth in herself.  She felt like nothing could stop this warm feeling inside her, even with lakes of unspoken emotion pouring through her veins.

This emotion will not go unspoken.

The silence is broken as Shintarou turns to cross the road.

“Oh. You’re not walking home?”

_No._ _I’ve got something special to do._


	2. Cryptic Confession

Schools are special in a way.

Thousands upon thousands of souls trapped inside the walls, each one a unique expression of _thousands_ of people during the most changeable period in their lives. Most of these identities long gone to the school - and the person that left them behind. The walls inhale these memories and exhale them the only way buildings can, through flowers and weeds and moss. Most nature dies without proper maintenance, but many manage to survive.

Rather like those souls.

This school neglects the plants growing in it’s walls. With the headmaster that insists they ‘add character’ and a staff that knows the school lacks cash and the will to deal with it themselves. The flowers will die on their own, or they’ll stay there forever.

Flowers can have so much character.

On this school, among the assorted leaves and vines, the foxglove grows. A flower with purple, bell shaped petals – it stands out for a narrow stem and a hearty ability to stand upright on a wall. It’s heavy plant that survives on rain water and drain water. Some students pick the lower flowers and weave them into crowns or chains or stick them behind their ears. Somewhat of an unspoken tradition.

Takane is familiar with this tradition, without too much of a care. No more than a passing glance is given to the flowers that border the buildings doors, they’re just another thing for her to ignore in the fog of the morning.

_God, I hate mornings._

Half asleep, she hadn’t had a single thought worth noting since waking up. Her ritual in the morning is absolute garbage; waking up at 8:25, leaving at 8:32, arriving at 8:41. Should be more important to her, really.

But she’s here now - out of the fog, into the classroom.

“He isn’t even _here yet?_ ” she hears herself whine, making the first words of the day a noisy complaint as she leans against the doorframe.

_Huh?_

_Where’s the response?_ Takane rubs her eyes and forces herself awake to see what’s keeping Haruka from responding. Takane follows his eyeline and walks towards the unusual sight on her desk.

A simple paper cup. In the paper cup, six yellow tulips pulled together by a dainty yellow bow. A thousand thoughts immediately fly into her head. _Who? What? Haruka? No. What’s this meant to mean? Is this a holiday I’ve forgotten about?_

_Is it my birthday, did I forget that?_

_Am I in trouble, somehow?_

Takane reaches a hand out to touch the petals, gingerly, as if they might disappear in her fingers. In what she sees as deliberate move, the ribbon isn’t quite the same shade as the petals – it’s darker and more vibrant, more matching the jumper she’s wearing than the sprouting blossoms at the tip of the stem.

“I didn’t read the note! I swear!”

“There’s a note?!”

That comes out louder, higher pitched than she wants it to. But he’s right, there is a note, a tiny piece of card folded up and tucked inside the ribbon. Side-eyeing Haruka and sitting down at the desk, she unfolds the words.

_‘They reminded me of you, and then they reminded me of me! These are for you, Takane. I’ve been wanting to tell you for too long, x’_

The ‘o’s have tiny petals doodled around them.

A lightness wells up inside her chest. This was a love confession? _It’s vague but… that’s how I’d word it._

She reads the note again, feeling something far more intense than she’d prepared herself for today, and quickly folds it up to tuck into her bag.  As she gazes at the flowers some more, Takane notices a dumb grin spread across her face. _They’re so… pretty. Gah! What’s happening to me?_

They’re for _her_. That was the most unbelievable thing, _beautiful flowers for me of all people._

_Who did this?_

Someone that liked her so much they’d wake up early to put these on her desk before anybody else arrived. Is that really true? Her face twists in confusion and she finds it pointing in Haruka’s direction. Suppose it was him? How would she know? _We have been closer lately... I guess?_ But the handwriting on the note was strikingly presentable, nothing like Haruka’s scrawl.

There’s something telling her it isn’t him. Not now anyway. Last year, she’d found herself enamoured by the carefree boy – this year, she knew this was desperate clinging to a heterosexual lifeboat, finding the closest guy and forcing romantic thoughts into her head. He knew this.

No.

He was far more likely to be an accomplice.

But to who?

She’ll have to think about it later. Tateyama just walked in. His existence doesn’t usually phase her but she’s grateful for the break in her trance, thinking about this is making her brain hurt and her knees shake.

He sits down at his desk, unprofessional in every conceivable way. Takane suddenly thinks to hide the flowers but it’s too late, he’s seen them. A taunting grin stretches over his idiotic face –

_God, who let this guy teach?_

“Takane, I didn’t know those were for _you_.”

Haruka giggles.

* * *

 

From there, the day passed without event. Even if something _had_ happened, there was little chance she would have remembered it, the rest of the day an unwanted blur. Nothing in class was important, all that mattered was getting home and stowing away. Haruka would fill her in if anything important happened, as he always did when she fell asleep in class or was having a difficult day. Takane had been trying to reciprocate. But not today.

She sits inside her cocoon weaved with strands of confusion, fear, a form of happiness she couldn’t possibly know the word for. And blankets – lots of blankets.

Flowers are such a _specific_ choice. The person responsible could’ve just left the note, _surely that’s enough to convey their feelings, right?_ But the flowers were a step further, an extra thought over merely writing of a note.

What could they mean? Are they meant to symbolise her? The sender? Something else?

Struck with an idea, Takane sets down her game. Maybe the sender hadn’t thought it through this far, but if she’s going to overthink, she’s going to do it thoroughly. So, she pulled up her laptop and typed ‘yellow tulip’ + ‘meaning’ into google.

_Hopeless love and cheery sunshine. Huh._

Whoever this person is, they don’t fancy their odds. Which is stupid, if it’s hopeless it’s because of her. More and more, she’s starting to feel like she doesn’t deserve these types of feelings, feels like she’s somehow cheating someone into thinking she’s wonderful. Cute flowers, cute note, all the effort that went into the arrangement - for her?

_Cheery sunshine… well, anyone that buys flowers in the heart of winter has gotta have something bright hearted about them._

Takane glanced at the pretty card she’d tossed beside her, the flowers doodled around the edges were intricate and messy and cute. The design was intricate enough that when the sender wrote the words and misspelled one, they’d scribbled it out instead of starting anew. _Laziness, I can respect that._

 _‘They reminded me of you, then they ~~reme~~ reminded me of me!’. _ And the ‘x’ at the end, overly stylised and overbearingly adorable.

What does that mean? Flowers reminded someone of Takane? The question remains. _Are they from someone who doesn’t know me, just a generic romantic gesture? Or someone that knows me so well that they know this… this is actually perfect?_

Haruka said they _had_ to be romantic. ‘ _You’re a wonderful girl, Takane! I hope it’s someone you like!’._

Takane didn’t have much experience with romance, her only notable experience being a year-long, misguided crush on Haruka. And video game characters. _Female_ video game characters. And Ayano. But that doesn’t count, that’s just as much of a fantasy as any fictional character.

She’d never thought she’d be interested in dating someone, really. She’d grown up fairly isolated because of her illness (or personality?), nobody interested in talking romance with her, never mind someone interested in her. Middle school crushes were a confusing concept, like she was in a boat and heteronormativity had disguised her oars. No idea how to navigate, or even move, she’d remained in the same place while everyone left her behind.

Recently, she’d started to think that the ‘envy’ she felt for so many girls had been romance in disguise.

_Instead of wanting to be like them, I probably just wanted to date them._

Coming out to Haruka (and _only_ Haruka), had made them a lot closer. Something about not holding a huge part of herself back had allowed her to see things from his perspective a little more, _he’s always so cheery because he isn’t worried what anyone else thinks._ To have someone else experience her so fully had made her life ever so slightly easier. To experience someone else’s life so fully… is a learning experience.

The flowers are a fucking curveball though.

_Hm. Sour feelings aside, holy shit._

Objectively, subjectively, whatever, this is a romantic gesture.

If someone wants to date her, she hopes it’s a girl. If it’s a boy… that’ll have to be dealt with. She isn’t too concerned about that, she knows that at this stage in her life she has the ability to turn someone down. No is a complete sentence, and that’s all any dude is getting.

If it’s a girl… that complicates things. Would she have to come out to her grandmother before dating them? After dating them? Would she even date a girl, knowing full well that she’s still hung up on Ayano?

Could it be Ayano? The handwriting checks out, the cheery sunshine and the cute gesture.

Unrealistic? _Yeah. Confirmation bias. There’s no way Ayano’s been anything but friendly towards me, dreaming won’t get me anywhere… I wish it would._

Once again, she finds herself wincing at her own thoughts.

 _Is it stupid that I care so much about this? That I’m thinking so much about this? Is this how a regular person reacts to confessions? Am I a regular person? How_ should _I be reacting? Am I overthinking this?_

At this point, she doesn’t know the difference between overthinking and… regular thinking.

Her usual outlet was video games. Up until now, the only emotion she’d needed a release for so intensely was anger, lest it bubble up and hurt those she held close. Shooting strangers online was her vice, so much so that she held nationally ranking titles in poor coping mechan- shooting games.  Shooting games.

But her hands, aching with a desire to hold a controller, had picked up a handheld. Anything to stop the pressure cooker heating her thoughts into irrational oblivion. Animal Crossing – good for stress relief, good for thinking to.

_Ayano would love this game._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The files for this chapter on my computer are labelled 'useless lesbian Takane'. But I do love writing about comp het.

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, if you'd told me I'd be writing kagepro fanfic in the year of 2018 I'd have laughed. But I got re-hooked! I hope you enjoy this story of Takane being the most useless lesbian out there. They both are, really. Ayataka is blessed.


End file.
